


spectrum

by earliegrey



Series: light 'em up (and watch it all burn) [1]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M, gangsta!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-21 20:30:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3704131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earliegrey/pseuds/earliegrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Gangsta!AU;  [the world beneath our feet] ; Kagami is a twilight and blindness is his compensation;]</p><p>Story when they were twelve; Aomine has taught Kagami what colors are.</p>
            </blockquote>





	spectrum

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! It’s Earlie here~ This is just going to be a random drabble amongst many others, but I wanted to get started so I can create a series for this on ao3! So the back story for this: me and some of my close twitter friends had been musing about a gangsta!AU. What started as just a fun idea on twitter exploded into this sort of fun, collaborative project between four creators. We're still fleshing the story out but it's not stopping any of us from drawing or writing things.
> 
> We have an umbrella name for the verse [light 'em up], and then parts to it representing each ship. Aoka's series is titled the world beneath our feet. 
> 
> Anyways, this takes place when AoKa are on the run together at age 12; we have a timeline that’s coming together quite nicely, but I wanted to write a drabble of this hehe. Just take it as a small piece to the bigger puzzle. But in this drabble, Aomine has taught Kagami things about color using things Kagami can touch and feel. ^q^
> 
> Background knowledge of GANGSTA manga is preferred; but the basic concept is, in his childhood, Kagami has been in a mercenary group, kicked and abused. He's blind and also a twilight which is a group of people who descended from those used a drug to enhance their abilities, twilights are mistreated, abused, and discriminated by "Normals." 
> 
> Warning: a little bit of angst, maybe some triggers
> 
> That said, please enjoy!

_Green is grass_ , Kagami says under his breath, fingertips and palm gliding over soft, prickly blades.

He tips his head down at where his hands are, feeling the soft bristling edges bending and curving around him and giving way.

 _Green are leaves,_  he remembers Aomine saying, and something thin and prickly had brushed against his nose then.

It had a weird smell to it, smelled like a type of ground _,_ one he had been shoved down against repeatedly and had sat up from with bits of dried flakes in his mouth and gravel pressed against the break in his skin.

Kagami lets his hand hover over the grass and he nearly bends a soft stick. Hesitant, he pinches it, and lets his thumb run along something soft, fragile.

 _Flowers,_  Kagami can hear Aomine’s voice clearly, boyish and laughing.  _There’s a lot of colors for them, they can be purple, yellow, and orange. Usually the ones here by the lake are yellow._

Kagami feels a faint smile as he traces the rims of the petals, five of them and thinks _yellow, probably._

Two colors left, Kagami thinks and remembers that there is  _red_ , because red is on him, it’s on his thin body, burnt and held there on the stretch of skin above his shoulder blade.

Red is fire; a hot scalding bit pressed down, unrelenting.

 _It’s the color of your eyes,_  Aomine had said despite Kagami’s grimace at the word, and the hot pain passes over the mark on his skin like a ghost. _It’s kinda like, hm. A pretty gem, a crystal sort of._

Kagami knows about gems and crystals.

The ladies at the manors he used to guard would have them; they’re expensive,  _of worth_ —and Kagami almost smiled as gentle fingers ran over his brow and swept at the hair over his eyes.

He breathes in a little of the crisp spring day.

A cool breeze sweeps through the field he’s at and Kagami can feel—the green grass tickling under his toes, the yellow flower brushing along his knuckles, and the warmth of an orange sun cloaking over his shoulders.

He hears a loud rustle from somewhere behind him and shoes scraping and dropping against grass. “I told you not to wander, do you have any idea how far you are from the city—” Kagami hears and there’s a crinkle somewhere below the voice, something paper and rigid.

“It’s a short walk,” Kagami replies and hears the other boy wheezing hard.

“It’s  _not_  a short walk,” a strained pause and a gulp of air. “if I had to run everywhere to find you. God, tell me next time.”

The voice stoops closer and then drops right next to him; Aomine’s breath is leveling out in short bursts of air. “Hey, I got you something. Hungry?”

Aomine puts something warm and soft into his hands; it smells sweet and Kagami brings it to his mouth, chances a bite.

“I didn’t poison it,” Aomine says, mouth full, next to him and Kagami knows he didn’t, but he just likes the first bite into the bread, the crunch of the brittle crust and then the soft yeast.

“It’s light brown; they didn’t burn it like last time. I had the lady give us something nice since I found her stupid cat for her,” Aomine tells him and Kagami nods, chews slowly because, right,  _brown_ , how did he forget brown?

Brown is food, it’s the stuffed pork bread Aomine manages to bring for them to eat, and then it’s also the color of dirt and rocks.  _It’s not anything really,_  Aomine said once,  _you can find it everywhere._

And then—“Hey, Aomine ,” Kagami says after a small nibble. He plays with his food, chewing and then pushing it to the side of his cheek as he thinks. “What’s blue again?”

He can hear when Aomine stops chewing, can hear the odd click in his jaw that he usually does when he thinks, and hears the soft sigh as Aomine rests his bread onto the crinkly paper.

“Well, there’s the sky.” A shift next to him, Kagami feels the cloth of Aomine’s shirt brush against his arm as his voice inches closer. “And then water. And…there’s different types of blue, light…Dark—ah! My hair is dark blue.”

“Your hair?”

Kagami nearly jumps when fingers curl around his wrist and pulls at it. Then he feels something soft under his palm, strands of hair, smelling faintly like clean soap.

“Yeah,” Aomine says a few inches away and Kagami thinks that a grin has probably stretched over his lips.”It’s dark blue.  _I’m blue_ , so if you wanna think blue, think of me.”

“Somehow that,” Kagami says with an odd quirk at the corner of his lips. “Makes no sense.”

“It does. You just have to try hard to imagine it,” Aomine huffs with a snort before he lets Kagami’s hand go.

Aomine picks up the half-eaten bread and resumes eating and talking. And Kagami listens to him complain about the errand he had to do about a missing cat and an old lady that helped him.

—

Kagami has always known what the color black is, just never knew it by name. And until Aomine described what black was, it was just another name for another “color” he could never see.

But  _black_ , Kagami realizes, is a lot more intimate than  _red_  is; it’s the stretching emptiness around him, the space he’s been in since he was born.

It is his comfort, his familiar, and Kagami has heard things of  _light_  and  _dark, white_  and  _black_  and how people hate the latters, but really, all he’s ever known was black.

Black and dark is where he belongs.

(Then on that spring day, when Aomine had taken a hold of his wrist and placed it against his head, softhair tickling the palm of his hands– _“I’m blue, think of me as blue.”_

Kagami thinks that  _blue_  becomes something like home.)


End file.
